//------------------------------//
// Knots and Regrets 
// Story: ...But It Often Rhymes 
// by Posh 
//------------------------------//

Cheerilee's bedroom is a morass of unfolded laundry and disorganized bookshelves. The only thing she bothers to hang up in her closet is her cheerleader's uniform, which she's currently stripping off of her body. She's rambling to Sunset as she undresses, something about spring tryouts, while obnoxious dance music blares from a phonograph in the corner. 

Sunset's not paying attention to any of it.

Her chin rests on her folded forelegs as she lies on the end of Cheerilee's bed, scanning through notes and scribbling thaumic formulae on a notepad in front of her. A knot of resentment coils in the pit of Sunset's stomach as she works – these spells she's been assigned are entry-level, basic magic. Fillies and colts in magic kindergarten would scoff at them. She's the Princess's personal protégée, yet she's saddled with tracing spell matrices she fully mastered years ago! 

She can hear her mentor's calming platitudes as clearly as if she's standing right in front of her. 

Sunset growls to herself. The Princess restrains her out of cowardice and calls it patience! What is she afraid of? What does she think there is in the big, scary world that Sunset Shimmer can't handle? 

A hoof strokes Sunset's withers. A nose nuzzles along Sunset's ear. 

Sunset sighs, and scoots to the side, as Cheerilee closes the notebook and snuggles against her back. Forehooves lock across her chest, and Sunset shuts her eyes. 

The knot in her gut tightens.





Sunset takes a cab home, turns off her phone, and leaves it off.

She spends the next two days in her pajamas. Twilight shows up, eventually, with burritos and gossip – such a Rarity thing to do, but it's all that rescues Sunset from a slow death by starvation.

"So, yeah, I wanted to take things further, obviously," she says, concluding the story of her prom night, only two bites into her food. "But Timber, the chivalrous lug, was like, 'no, you've been drinking the punch, it wouldn't be right.'"

Sunset grunts through a mouthful of burrito.

"Speaking of the punch, we're pretty sure it was Crystal Prep who spiked it," Twilight adds. "Cinch denies involvement, of course, but it could've been an unsanctioned act by an independent actor. Maybe by someone who wasn't thrilled with how the Friendship Games wrapped up."

Sunset grunts again, and shoves the remnants of her meal into her mouth.

"Um... yeah, same." Twilight peers closely at Sunset. "You know, I think you might want to pick a different outfit for commencement tomorrow. That one's kinda..."

"Wo'?" Sunset says through a mouthful.

"Er... stainy. And smelly." Twilight wrinkles her nose. "You might also want to do something with your hair. Like... wash it. Bare minimum, brush it."

Sunset gnashes the rest of her food to paste and swallows. "No need. Not going. Thanks for dinner. You can see yourself out."

"It's noon. This is lunch." Twilight's eyes narrow. "And I'm not going anywhere until you talk to me."

Sunset snorts. "Talk. Sure. What do we talk about, huh?"

"For starters," says Twilight, setting her burrito onto the coffee table. "You could tell me what happened at the prom."

"Nothing happened at the—"

"Don't lie to me," Twilight says, firm and patient at the same time. "You vanished after I went to dance with Timber, and you've been ignoring your phone ever since that night. Something must've happened."

Sunset folds her arms and looks away. She almost shrugs off Twilight's hand when it grips her shoulder, but it's the first bit of physical comfort she's had since driving Cheerilee away. Part of her wants to just throw herself in Twilight's lap and be cuddled forever.

I think the smell might put her off, though.

"Did someone..." Twilight fumbles for words. "Were you... hurt?"

"Hurt?" The implication dawns on Sunset; she shakes her head rapidly. "No. Not like that."

Twilight heaves a relieved sigh – but there's still a hint of worry in her voice. "But you were hurt?"

"No," Sunset repeats. She draws in a long, hissing breath. "I hurt someone, Twilight. I screwed up."

She shifts on the couch, rotating to face Twilight, whose head is cocked inquisitively. Sunset's hands fold in her lap, and she twiddles her thumbs.

"...Someone came on to me at the prom." It's an effort just to say the words, but once they're out, the rest come more easily. "Someone I wasn't expecting. Someone I've kinda been... how to put it..."

"Crushing on?"

"...Admiring from afar. For a while." Sunset sticks her tongue out. "Crushing on. What are we, twelve?"

Twilight gathers her legs onto the couch, letting her feet dangle to the side. "So what happened?"

"She tried to kiss me." Sunset chases off the memory of that moment, the instant where those silky lips were against her own. "I freaked out and pushed her away. She left."

"Why'd you react that way?" Twilight asks. "If it were me, I think I'd be elated. I was elated when it happened to me, come to think of it."

"Because... I mean, it's like..." Sunset presses her fingertips to her eyelids and massages gently, sighing. "Like, okay, you have a little infatuation with someone, that's one thing. That's cool – that's private. You don't have to share it with anyone, and that's good, because maybe the idea of it becoming real, of them... reciprocating... maybe that's a little scary. And maybe you're not ready for that – and besides, there's no way they'd ever be into you too, right? So you just enjoy it from a nice, safe distance. You're content with it. And you're not prepared when it turns out that they... they, um..."

"Reciprocate?"

Sunset points a finger-gun at Twilight. "You know what I'm talking about, right?"

Twilight screws up her mouth and taps her chin, then shrugs. "Nope. First crush turned out to be a winner."

"Ugh." Sunset tucks a greasy lock of hair behind her ear. "Rarity would've gotten it."

"Probably. She wanted to come along, but I convinced her to let me talk to you alone. She paid for these burritos, though." Twilight takes Sunset's hand, cradling it gently. "Let me get this straight. She made a move on you, you weren't ready, you freaked out, she went off upset. Right?"

Sunset nods.

"So you weren't ready in that moment, and you didn't handle it so well. That's okay." Twilight squeezes. "How do you feel now?"

"...I don't know. I want to talk to her. I need to talk to her, at least to clear the air." Sunset sighs. "But at the same time, I want to hide, and hope she just forgets about me."

"You probably don't need me to point out that hiding isn't a viable option, right?"

Sunset snorts – but it tapers into a raspy laugh. She bunches up her body and lies sideways on the couch, her head in Twilight's lap.

"I don't know what to do, Twi," she whispers, shutting her eyes.

"I wish I could say that I do, but I'm probably not the most qualified to advise someone on their love life. Like I said, one crush, one boyfriend... I got lucky, but the upshot is I don't have a lot of perspective." Twilight sighs. "It might be a good idea to get out of your apartment for a little while, just as a start, though. Maybe you could show up to commencement tomorrow?"

Sunset bunches up even more. "She'll be there."

"In all likelihood. And you'll figure that out when you get to it, too." Twilight strokes her hair, only wincing a little at the oily texture. "Like I said – not a lot of experience here. But I still think you can fix this. I have faith in you, Sunset."

Sunset knows. She smiles when she hears it anyway. Then she rolls, and looks up at Twilight. "You're not gonna ask me who it is? You must be curious."

Twilight just smiles enigmatically.